


Five times Mako doesn’t cry and the one time she does

by RocioWrites



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocioWrites/pseuds/RocioWrites
Summary: “Do not apologize for crying. Without this emotion, we are only robots.”― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love





	Five times Mako doesn’t cry and the one time she does

i.

Mako doesn’t cry immediately. It’s hard to do so when the Shatterdome is full of a cheerful atmosphere, electrifying adrenaline, everyone’s celebrating the miracle of canceling the apocalypse. There are shouts and clapping and others are crying – sadness and happiness effortlessly entwined.

She bows before Herc Hansen. He pats her shoulder with a smile that’s equal parts relief and sorrow. She proceeds to pet Max on the head, eyes brightly sad as Max sniffs her and then goes after Herc, looking for Chuck with his tail swinging, drunk with the loud yelling all around.

She also tries to bow before Dr. Gottlieb but Dr. Geiszler just at his side launches himself into a hug Mako is glad to give. Dr. Gottlieb smiles at her over his shoulder and they nod at each other. Both scientists are tired and ready to collapse, the promise of a future keeping them celebrating along with the rest.

When she goes to Tendo, he’s already embracing the lights out of Raleigh.

Mako doesn’t cry then, simply going to them and taking Raleigh’s hand in hers.

 

ii.

The ceremony that follows is quiet and full of respect for those who aren’t here now. Everyone lights a candle, some even light two or three. She lights four.

Raleigh lights his own. They sit them side by side.

Mako doesn’t cry in that moment either.

Not even when Herc gives a solemn speech – voice cracking but no one having the heart to point it out.

The prayers that follow are said in different languages, to different deities. Each giving their respect to those lost souls as best as their beliefs have taught them to. Each wishing for a prosper future.

It is sobering.

 

iii.

The days after are full of hurry and half encounters. Everyone rushes to pack their things, hoping they get to be the lucky ones to be sent home first.

Mako feels like crying there, because she doesn’t have a home now. But Raleigh doesn’t have a home either.

It’s okay. They can find home together, she decides. So she remains strong-willed and doesn’t cry.

 

iv.

The Shatterdome slowly but surely is emptying. Still, steps echo all around. Marshal Hansen is strict about cleaning the mess – even when they were technically outside of any official endorsement. No country wants to so much as imply they knew about them. But he’s right, the only way to regain some semblance of normalcy is finishing this task as if they’re actually part of the military.

Tendo is aching to leave but due to his important work he’s expected to stay until the very end just like the Marshal. Neither Mako nor Raleigh are in need of staying, but they’re still here.

Dr. Gottlieb has been packing, too slowly to be honestly wanting to leave. Mako suspects he doesn’t have a place to be just like her. Meanwhile, Dr. Geiszler is more vocal about it. He claims to be finishing important experiments on the last remnants of kaiju in this world.

She could bet good money on Marshal Hansen being compassionate and not kicking them out – their bickering getting louder and louder day after day.

Life right now is peaceful and hopeful, mourning pushing to rebuild all that has been teared apart. Life in the Shatterdome is a weird mixture of that and the past, it still feels oppressive; however, the deadly urgency is nowhere to be found.

Nonetheless, Mako lies in bed afraid of falling asleep, eyes tired and stinging but without tears.

 

v.

She takes Max out every day.

The big boy walks around happily, excited because he hasn’t gotten used to this new freedom yet. He sniffs everything in sight, kids once again freely on the streets going to Max and asking to pet him and play with him.

It’s endearingly adorable. Mako could cry just thinking about Max roaming the Shatterdome, searching for the owner that won’t ever come back, whining because he can’t find Chuck to cuddle with.

She makes sure to tell Marshal Hansen how Max makes all the children laugh.

 

\+ i

Mako estimates only 20 or so are still in the Shatterdome. The last ones here.

It’s been a long time and very little simultaneously, it’s disorienting. News shows only talk about rebuilding, countries reconnecting and thankfully working together.

Luckily, everyone involved in this out-of-the law suicide mission has been deemed worker of the resistance who saved humankind so they won’t be prosecuted nor dishonorably discharged, they are war heroes after all.

Just one week and the Shatterdome will be history, only a memory. Hong Kong surely wants the space back now. Everything moves forward, it’s only logical.

There’s a hollow in Mako’s chest. Raleigh’s smile fills it. Marshal Hansen cooing at Max fills it. The hushed honest conversations Dr. Gottlieb and Dr. Geiszler share when they think no one’s around fill it. Tendo circling in a traditional calendar the days left to be free and able to go to his girlfriend fills it.

Seven days and they’ll go. It feels a bit as if all this has been a nightmare and nothing more. She knows better than that though.

It’s way too quiet now.

Mako lights more candles, thinking this will be the last time. Because after they’re gone, they’ll have to move on and adapt to this new life without life-threatening huge monsters raiding cities.

She lights four white candles for her family. Another for Yancy Becket. Another one for Chuck Hansen, the Kaidonovskys and the Wei brothers. A last one, blue this one, for every other innocent person lost in this tragedy.

She hasn’t allowed herself to cry until now, because there was always something else going on. The celebration, the respect, picking up after the disaster, the reconstruction of everything broken. But it’s time to move on and she must mourn before that can happen.

Once she starts, Mako is unable to stop. Tears burn, sadness sting. All these wonderful people— just gone. Her family. Her whole family. Gone. Like thousands of others.

It’s so hurtful. It’s irreversible as well.

But they’ve won. They’ve canceled the apocalypse and she will always be sure of how much she was loved. She still is. And she got her revenge and she made her family proud.

Crying has never been easy. It’s no different this time around. The sobbing starts quietly until Mako’s breathing hard, drowning. Things have been so hard, she has lost so much. The sound echoes awfully loud with the Shatterdome as empty as it is, bouncing in every metallic wall.

Raleigh slips into her room silently, eyes shining, just about to cry himself. She shakes her head but it’s impossible to deny the comfort.

“It’s okay.” He says. Tender, so soft.

Partly, it’s true. However, it doesn’t feel like everything’s okay.

The hug isn’t unexpected but it startles Mako all the same. Raleigh leaves a kiss atop of her head.

“It’s okay.” He repeats. “You can cry all you need.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love it when I get to fic at the office while the boss isn’t looking ;)  
> Kids, don’t try this at your jobs!


End file.
